Burn the Night Away
by hostilecrayon
Summary: Yosuke thinks of Yu when he touches himself and figures out a whole lot about his feelings. Cue awkward romantic feelings conversation with Yu via phone. Yu/Yosuke, awkward fluff


This was supposed to be short and kind of sad. It ended up being neither. Oops.

**Burn the Night Away**

Yosuke comes back to himself around ten. While he was staring off into space, his playlist has looped back around to the beginning, and he lets the beat of the music reorient him.

He should probably lay down, and he gives his bed a half-hearted glance before continuing his staring at nothing. He has school in the morning, but it's not like he's not used to staying up late, even if there is no longer a reason to be up at midnight.

His chair isn't particularly comfortable, but rather than move, he just shifts around a little, grabbing for his phone. All he has to do is push the button on the side to confirm the fact that he doesn't have any messages, but he flips it open anyway and pulls up his text messages. There are a few threads there, but by far the longest is the one for Partner, racked up to one hundred thirteen messages Yosuke hasn't yet brought himself to delete.

He doesn't delete them now; just sends a _Night_ out into digital space and tries to pretend he's not hoping for a response.

He doesn't have to wait long.

_That would be the time of day, yes._

Yosuke snorts. Figures Yu would respond like that. _Smartass._

_It's better than being a dumbass._

His beginnings of a grin take over his whole face as he tap tap taps the keys. _Hey wait, are you calling me a dumbass?_

_Your poor grades aside, you'd have to be dumb to be a dumbass. You're just an ass._

_I guess that's fair._ Then, right on its heels, _Wait! Scratch that! I'm not an ass!_

_No takebacks._

_Man, what are we, five?_

_I'm pretty big for a five year old._

_Oh man, you just left yourself wide open for like eighty dirty jokes._

_And yet you offer none. I don't know whether to be disappointed or proud._

_Hey! You wound me!_

_Want me to kiss it and make it better?_

Yosuke's heart skips a beat, but he keeps his hands steady as he types out, _What, are you my mom now?_

_I hope not. Otherwise this conversation is pretty inappropriate._

_You're telling me._

_I miss you._

Yosuke can't quite stop the tremor that laces down his arms and into his fingers. He takes a deep breath and locks the message before replying, _Yeah, same here, partner. You have no idea._

_I'll try to come visit soon, okay?_

Yosuke doesn't say, _Want to come as my boyfriend?_

He stares at his phone for a few minutes before typing in, _Yeah, I'm looking forward to it._

_Goodnight, Yosuke._

Yosuke brings them full cycle with a, _Night_.

He stares at his silent phone for long moments before numbly putting it back on the desk.

He loves talking to Yu. After all the time spent apart, after all the would've should've could'ves that never seem to cease running in circles through his head, for a brief moment, talking to Yu is everything it always had been. All the happiness, and the excitement, all the much, much more confusing feelings swirling around in his chest, and then it ends, and the crushing weight of his absence seems heavier, somehow, like every reprieve brings that much more of a struggle when it's over again.

Yosuke glances at his bed again, wondering if he can ignore the sudden tightness of his pants, or if he should take care of it, or hell, if he should move to the bed and _then_ take care of it. He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and reminds himself that he should not be hard, let alone masturbating, to thoughts of his best friend.

Then he unzips his pants.

He maneuvers for a few obnoxious moments to get his pants down his hips far enough before he sighs and just stands up, letting them drop so he can step out of them before he sits back down. The coarse material digs into his ass, and he leans back in his chair and scoots to the very edge of the seat so that he's almost completely hanging off, only the absolutely necessary amount of skin touching the fabric.

He feels pretty awkward, his lanky form making it so that even with the extra room behind him, his shoulders are hanging over the back of the chair. He starts to wonder if Yu would think it was hot, but he cuts that thought short with a puff of air that isn't quite a laugh, pushing a hand inside his shirt to run his fingers over his ribs, counting them with ease. Yeah, real sexy there, Hanamura.

Sexy or not, his erection is bobbing slightly in the open air, and it's pretty embarrassing but even self-depreciating thoughts concerning Yu are still thoughts about Yu, and as his cock twitches his thoughts head back in the right direction.

He rubs his thighs a little, the awkward position already tensing his legs, so he pulls one socked foot up to prop against the desk. That feels a little better, and he lets one finger draw little circles on his bony hip and fumbles for his music player with the other, zeroing in on the song he wants and blindly hitting repeat. He cranks up the volume, brushing his knuckles against his length. He lets out a soft gasp he can feel but not hear, his other hand creeping up under his shirt to skim over the flexing muscles there.

Yosuke knows he's needy when it comes to this, and that's probably annoying when with someone else, but he's not, so after a lip-biting moment he pauses to rip off his shirt.

He likes to be touched. Or at least, he's pretty sure he'd like to be touched if he could ever manage to get himself in the position to be. As it is, he likes to touch himself in so many more places than the essential ones, and now that his shirt is gone, his free hand coasts up his body, wrapping up around his neck to tangle in the short hairs at the base of his skull, his other hand palming his cock lightly, not really doing much other than letting him feel it there.

His already half-lidded eyes slide the rest of the way closed and he pictures Yu. Nothing compromising, not just yet, just Yu, smiling at him, laughing with him, mumbling answers for him in class. Memories, rather than fantasies. His fingers twitch against his length, and he squeezes, once, his other hand skating down his torso and stopping to toy with his navel.

What would Yu do? It's a question he asks himself an embarrassing number of times throughout the day, but this is different. This isn't a problem he needs to solve, or a friend to console. In this, Yosuke has no idea how his partner would proceed. Even the thought of it is illicit and exciting, sending sparks through his body.

He lets his memories of Yu turn decidedly more fiction than fact. He feels silly, but tries to imagine what it would feel like if Yu was touching him. Would he linger, like Yosuke tends to? Or would he be firmer, more direct, confidently gripping Yosuke's cock while his other hand grasps at his hip, his tongue running over Yosuke's bottom lip?

Yosuke can feel himself flush when his tongue pokes out, swiping across his bottom lip in Yu's absence. Still, it shoots straight to his groin, and he can't help but groan at his mental image of Yu, face flushed and eyes intense, almost like they'd just been fighting inside the TV, except that the look is all for him.

He wants it. He wants it so bad he can taste it on his lips, can feel it as his hand finally starts working over his length, adjusting several times as he tries to imagine how Yu would do it: firm, but not fast. Yu would want to make it last, of that, Yosuke is fairly sure.

A thousand things run through his head in an instant, from how good he feels just imagining it to how Yu would probably disapprove of his fantasy, would be likely to be disgusted with him, but Yosuke is already too far gone to think about things like that seriously. He just feels so on edge, electrified by thoughts of Yu, as if just the thought of being touched by Yu would send a million painless zios through his body.

He leaking precome now, and he swipes his thumb over the head, smearing it over the shaft. Would Yu want to taste him? It sends shivers down his spine, and he brings his hand to his lips, licking gingerly at it. He tastes sweet, with just a hint of sour undercurrent. Yeah, Yu would like that, would maybe even duck his head down to taste it from the source, and Yosuke takes himself back in his hand and strokes eagerly, his other hand toying with the sensitive skin behind his balls.

When he overshoots and the pad of his middle finger brushes against his anus, he jumps, his breath hitching in his chest. Would… would Yu want to touch him _there_? He stills for a moment, catching his breath. This is a fantasy. Does it really matter what the answer is? Right now, the answer is whatever he decides.

He bites his lip, one hand reaching for his desk drawer.

When his parents had given him the talk last year, which was the most mortifying experience of his life, they'd given him a paper bag full of condoms. They must have gotten them from a clinic or something, because they were all the same kind, but in various 'fun' colors, and they'd come with some little crack off the top, single use containers of lube. Yosuke bites a little harder, worrying at the flesh there with his teeth.

He's never done this before. He'd thrown the bag in the bottom drawer and tried to forget about it – it's not like he's ever been in a situation where he'd need that kind of stuff. But maybe, maybe he'd like it if Yu touched him there, and…

What is he doing, thinking like he's actually familiar enough with Yu that this is an actual possibility? It would be best if he just sticks with his fantasy world.

Yes, yes he thinks he might like it if someone… if someone were to… touch him. There.

It takes an extremely long time before he finds the courage to break the top off. It takes the realization of how ridiculous he must look, staring at the tube like it's a mystical portal while he's holding his dick to make him just do it, and he almost laughs right out loud when it barely takes any pressure at all, a slight shifting of his fingers knocking the top clean off. How anticlimactic.

It strikes him that he has no idea what he's doing. Not that that's ever stopped him in any of his other endeavors, exactly, but this seems like the kind of thing you should at least know _something_ about before you start. But then, how hard could it be? He is the one doing it; if he doesn't like it, he can just stop. No big deal, right?

He pulls his hand off of his dick for a moment to drizzle it over his fingers. It's so slick some of it runs off, and he hisses when the cool substance drips onto his leg. Jeez, the stuff is messy. He rubs his fingers together to warm it up a little, and even puts some on his other hand. He strokes himself again, the wet, gliding feeling so much better than just doing it dry, and he wonders why he didn't try this sooner.

His other hand just hovers out in the air in front of him for a few moments while Yosuke breathes, a little harder and rougher than before. Then, slowly, slowly, he moves it down, making its way between his legs, behind his balls, and finally, to touch more firmly against his entrance.

With how hard he bucks, it's a wonder he doesn't fall out of his chair.

His other socked foot comes up to find purchase on the desk's edge, and his feet inch apart, 'walking' in opposite directions on the lip of the wood until he's as spread eagle as he can get without losing his balance. The hand on his cock matches the beat of the music blaring in his ears, slow, sweet, and completely the wrong kind of song for what he's doing, but it does funny things to his chest and he just goes with it, the experimental touch at his entrance gaining purpose, circling the tight ring of muscle there, pushing just enough to almost, but not quite, push inside.

It's good. It's more than good. It's a coiling in his guts, a burst of heat starting in his chest and spreading down past his groin to work its way under his socks and thread through his toes. If it feels like this when he's doing it himself, it's literally impossible to even comprehend how it would feel if it were someone else's hands, if it were _Yu's_ hands touching him so intimately, he only knows that it would be better, would completely blow his mind until there's nothing left to blow, and that even just imagining it threatens to wake his parents with the sounds he's sure he's making outside of his noise-cancelling headphones.

Yosuke cracks open his eyes, looking over at his door with mild concern, but it's still locked, and he hopes no one is anywhere near it because he's panting openmouthed now and he doesn't think he could stop even if his parents barged in to see what he was doing.

He presses a finger inside without really letting himself think about it, caught up in the tingling of his skin, in the slick feeling of his hand on his dick, and his knees begin to shake as his finger is swallowed up to the last knuckle inside of him. He's incredibly hot inside, his muscles squeezing tight against every inch of his skin, and it feels _weird_, but it makes each pump of his fist feel that much better, and Yosuke wrenches his eyes shut, words forming on his lips despite himself.

He's close. He can feel his balls hardening, and all it takes is a slight movement of the finger buried in his ass to completely shatter his control, and he's coming with a barely contained shuddering gasp, and even in the middle of the white noise filling his head and overtaking his senses, he can't pretend he's shouting anything other than Yu's name, even if he can't hear it over the sweet song playing in his ears.

He's keenly aware of the seat of the chair digging into his ass, the back imprinting itself into his shoulder blades, the come cooling against his stomach. For long moments, he just lets the music play, pleasure washing over him in waves. Then it's gone, and he's wiping his fingers and stomach with his shirt, stunned by the nothing left behind.

He just masturbated to his best friend. It's not really the first time; he can at least admit that much. But it is the first time he's done it to a love song, the first time he's stuck a finger up his ass pretending it was Yu. Somewhere in his subconscious, he's known for a long time that he wanted to be with Yu, but he'd written it off, somehow, as a natural attraction to his best friend. He'd convinced himself that he was just confusing his feelings, that this was the first time he's had a best friend and maybe it was normal.

He's pretty sure he can't pretend it's normal now.

What the hell is he going to do now? He might be- he thinks maybe- he _knows_, he knows and he clutches at his chest as the dam breaks and all the love he'd been hiding from threatens to explode out of him. His other hand comes up to his face, hiding behind it, and he's startled to realize he's crying. Quiet tears are rolling down his face, and he feels… something, something inside of him _shift_; is it release? He's not sure, doesn't even know how to begin trying to understand it, and before he knows what he's doing his phone is in his hand and he's pulling up Yu's messages.

Yosuke thumbs through them, reading each one with his new perspective, blinking wetness from his eyes when things get too blurry to see. With every line he reads, he feels a little bolder, and somehow a little more insecure – is it his realization coloring the words there, or do lines like _I miss you_ mean more than Yosuke had let himself think before?

He wipes his eyes, sitting up with a newfound determination that he knows he has to use now or lose it forever, and pulls up the reply box.

_Partner._

Maybe Yu is asleep. Maybe Yosuke is being ridiculous. Maybe-

His phone beeps, and a new message pops up on the screen.

_Can't sleep?_

_No. You?_

_Not really. What's up? Something on your mind?_

And there it is, the invitation Yosuke was waiting for. He chews on his lip, trying to read more into the words than is really there. He squeezes his eyes shut, hitting the keys from memory and doesn't allow himself to look until he sends it. He opens his eyes, his heart lurching in his chest as his eyes land on the deceptively simple word. _You._

If Yu seems weirded out, he can play it off, or make a joke, or something. Instead, when his phone buzzes, Yosuke sees, _Oh?_ which is less than helpful. It could mean anything.

Then his phone beeps again.

_Me too._

Yosuke's breath catches in his throat, and he has to ask himself if it implies what he thinks it does. It's so easy to imagine Yu, thinking as hard as Yosuke is right now, leaning over his phone and biting his lip as he waits for Yosuke's response with his heart pounding in his ears. Yosuke is still listening to the same damn song, but it's drowned out by the blood rushing in his head.

He has to be sure.

_You're thinking about you, too?_ He's going for teasing but he doesn't feel very smooth; doesn't feel much of anything beyond the tension in every muscle in his body, the nervous fluttering in his stomach, the slight tremble of his limbs.

_You know what I meant._

_Do I?_ Because really, he's not sure he gets it at all.

_Tell me what's on your mind._

Direct, straightforward. Yu is asking him to tell him. Yosuke's mouth goes dry and his hands shake so hard he almost drops his phone. He's not even sure if he can put it into words, is too afraid to say it outright, but he has to say something. _I'm so mixed up._

The reply is immediate. _About what?_

_I think you know…_ is all he can bring himself to say.

_Can I call you?_

Oh god, such a simple request, and yet, panic laces through Yosuke's body as he blinks owlishly at the tiny screen. He feels too raw, too emotionally strung out to talk, but Yosuke can't find it in himself to deny Yu, either, and he takes several steadying breaths before he types,_Yes._

The text has barely gone through when his phone starts ringing.

He takes a deep breath, pulls back one of the earpieces on his headphones, hits the answer button, and tries not to sound breathless when he almost whispers, "Hello?"

"Hey."

There's an awkward pause, Yosuke trying not to breathe into the phone, and when he finally starts to speak, so does Yu.

"Look, I-"

"Yosuke-"

They both laugh nervously, Yosuke fidgeting in his chair, pressing the phone to his ear harder than necessary, the music playing softly into his other ear. He only turned it down, not off, and he probably should but he doesn't think he could take this conversation in the deafening silence of his room. If nothing else, it gives him the strength to speak again.

"When- when you said you missed me… did- did you mean…?" He's stumbling and he makes a small, frustrated noise that makes Yu chuckle.

"Are you nervous? You don't have to be." Yu's voice is low and soothing, and Yosuke has no idea how his partner can be so calm about all this.

"Are you?"

Another soft laugh. "A little, yeah. But it's just us, right? No matter what happens, we'll still be partners."

"Yeah," Yosuke says, then again, a little louder, "Yeah," with his heart in his throat because, god, it's the first time that Yu has referred to them as partners. It had always been Yosuke to call them that, and Yu had never seemed to mind, but hearing him reciprocate is entirely different than just letting Yosuke say it.

"I meant what I said. I miss you." Yu pauses, then, "More than the others."

"M-me too." He thinks he can hear Yu inhale shakily, but he's not sure. He should be taking the initiative here, the ball is in his court, after all, but every time he tries to get words from his brain to his mouth, they get lost somewhere along the way, and all Yosuke manages is a weak, "I- I-"

God, he is so awkward. He's still naked, except for his socks, and he can't believe he didn't even bother to get dressed before he started texting Yu. It makes him feel a thousand times more nervous and strange, makes him stutter easily, and he tries to mentally get himself together as he gets up, stretches, and moves to his bed. He quickly peels off his socks and slips under the covers, and though he's still technically naked, just being covered makes him feel a little better. Nevermind that Yu can't see him one way or the other.

"I don't really know where to start," he finally says.

"Me either. Maybe- we could start at the beginning?" It's small, almost imperceptible, but he's known Yu long enough to hear the embarrassed smile in his voice, and the half-stumble in his words. It makes Yosuke feel just a little braver, like maybe the world isn't going to end any minute, or maybe it will but it'll give way to something totally new and amazing and, as of this moment, completely unimaginable.

"That… sounds reasonable." Yosuke chews on his lip for a moment, trying to think it through. "I- I guess it started a long time ago, for me. I just, I didn't realize how much I- well. I guess I should have known. Probably _did_ know, when I told you that you were special to me. I just- I-"

"I know," Yu says, and Yosuke cuts off; tries to stop the shaking in his hand and can't. "I didn't know if you… you didn't seem receptive to…"

Yosuke buries his face in his free hand, mumbling, "That's totally my fault." He tries to get it figured out, and his thoughts clamber over and around each other, getting stuck in his throat as they all try to come out at once. He scrubs at his face, inhales deeply. "I was scared. That whole thing with Kanji, it- it made me think, you know? It forced me to think about things I didn't want to, and, fuck, I'm a terrible person."

Yu's words are forceful. "You're not."

"I am. I took it out on Kanji and that's- it's not okay. I should, I don't know, apologize to him or something. Make it up to him somehow, if I even can. I just, you, too, I'm sorry I was such an ass."

"You don't have to apologize to me, and you know Kanji will forgive you. Probably already has."

Yosuke makes a distressed noise before he can stop himself. "Yeah, but that doesn't really make it right, you know?"

"…I know. But-"

Yosuke shakes his head. "No, no excuses. I've been making excuses for too long. I don't know how to feel about everything. I might- I think I could be… I don't know, bisexual or something, and, god damn it, it scares the living fuck out of me, you know?"

"It's pretty new to me, too," Yu admits, and it makes it a little easier, and now that Yosuke has gotten started, he finds it almost impossible to stop.

"I didn't really start at the beginning, I guess. I've always been attracted to you. It's pretty embarrassing to admit but, I kind of… remember when I crashed my bike? I mean it happened two days in a row, haha, oh man, I'm so lame, but it was because I was too busy looking at you to pay attention to where I was going, and then I lost control of my bike, and, well, you know the rest. I just, I couldn't admit it, you know? It's… not really the first time I've found a guy attractive but… there's always been something about you that… God, I feel like such a girl right now."

"You shouldn't. It might not be something you're used to, but li- being attracted to me doesn't make you girly. Or if it does, I'm just as girly, I guess. At least it's equal." Yu chuckles softly, and Yosuke smiles into the phone.

"I didn't know you liked yourself so much, partner," he drawls, and for a second, he's able to step outside of the conversation and just enjoy their shared amusement.

"Well, you said so yourself. I'm pretty hot."

"Hey, I said attractive. It's marginally different."

"Right. And if- if I told you that I also think… that I have also always thought you were attractive, would- would that be okay? For me to think that."

Yosuke has never heard Yu stumble so much over his words, and he feels his face grow hot. "Yeah," he says, his voice cracking. He swallows and starts again. "Yeah, it's- it's more than okay. It's kind of… great, actually."

This time he is sure he hears Yu's voice shake. "Is it?"

"It is." Yosuke sighs. "I'm not going to say that I'm just gay for you or something, that would be such a copout, but, right now, girls, boys, none of it matters. All that I can think about is you. I don't really know where to go from here, but, fuck, I really hope it goes somewhere because otherwise I have no idea what I'm doing telling you all of this. I mean, no pressure or anything! Oh man, I'm really making a fool of myself, aren't I? W-whatever you want to do is cool with me, okay?"

"I was hoping you wanted more, but I wasn't going to just assume… I- do you want- What I mean to say is, will you be my boyfriend? If you don't like it we can go back to being friends, but I-"

Yosuke cuts Yu off with a soft, "Yu." He clutches the phone hard enough to break, and he can tell before he even speaks that his voice is going to crack and shake, but he doesn't care, just opens his mouth and lets the words tumble out of it. "I want to. I mean, I will be. Your boyfriend. And I don't think I'll ever want to stop, so I hope you like it because I don't know what I'll do if you change your mind."

"I wish I could be there right now."

"Me too, but you'll visit soon, and it's not that much longer, less than a year and we'll be out of school, and you could come here, or maybe I'll go there, or whatever, it doesn't even matter as long as we end up together somewhere." He wants it to be now, doesn't want to wait, but he has to and damned if he's going to make Yu feel bad about something neither of them can do anything about. "I've got a lot to make up for, a lot of shit to get figured out in my head, things I don't even know where to start with, like how to tell my parents and how much of a total douchebag I'm going to feel like apologizing to Kanji and telling him that, actually, it's because I like boys that I acted so ridiculous, but… I don't have to figure out how I feel about you. I know exactly how I feel, and I don't think that's ever going to change. You're stuck with me, partner."

Yu snorts. "I think I can live with that."

Yosuke adjusts the phone, pulls off his headphones and lays down, grinning lazily into the mouthpiece. "Good to know."

Yu yawns, and then Yosuke does, too, and they laugh. "Should I let you go?"

"No. If- if you don't mind? I just kind of… want to listen to you? Just for a few more minutes?"

"Okay," Yu says, and they both just breathe into the phone for a while, saying nothing at all.

Yosuke is pretty sure Yu is asleep when his breathing evens out, but instead of hanging up, he just props the phone between his pillow and the ear and lays there, trying to curl into the sound of Yu's soft breath.

There's so much to think about; so many things to consider and go over, so much to worry about, and celebrate about, and just about every emotion in between, but Yosuke feels like he's been wrung out like a wet cloth, and he lets himself drift off.

When he wakes up, his phone is digging roughly into his cheekbone, and when he looks at it with gritty, sleep-filled eyes, he sees the timer still going. He puts it back to his ear and hears Yu, "Yosuke? You awake now?"

Yosuke grins. "Still an early riser, I see."

"Still perpetually late, I see."

Even if Yosuke can't see it, he can feel Yu's matching grin on the other end of the line, and in that moment, he knows that no matter how hard it's going to be, from here on out, it'll be okay.

He has Yu. That's all he'll ever need.


End file.
